


Lopegigrus Lepusalopus Ineptus

by Elizabeth_Holmes



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Newt/Oc friendship, herbalogy, save the jackalopes, somewhat depressing childhoods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth_Holmes/pseuds/Elizabeth_Holmes
Summary: Jackalopes are a dying breed of creature. Jacklyn Redthorn is a herbalogist who knows all too well what it's like to lose everything, and shes not going to watch one more creature die. Enter Newt Scamander, Magizoologist and best-selling author. Maybe he can help. SLOW UPDATES until someone shows interest.





	1. Origins

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written in years. The plot bunny (or should I say plot jackalope?) wouldn't leave me alone. Un-beta'd, because the person I might have beta it is asleep and I'm impatient.

Jackalope (Lopegigrus Lepusalopus Ineptus)

(Sometimes called the antler-bunny)

J. W. R. Classification: XXX (handle with care)

The name Jackalope is a portmanteau, deriving from the words "Jackrabbit" and "Antelope" This is likely due to the fact that it looks like a jackrabbit with antlers. Oddly enough, the jackrabbit isn't a rabbit at all, but a hare. Hares tend to be larger than rabbits with taller hind legs. I digress. These adorable creatures are found in the north western reaches of the United States of America.

While no-majs now believe that they are a myth, or the fictitious work of taxidermists, these creatures are real and have simply kept themselves well hidden. As well as the obvious attributes they possess (Antlers. That's literally all the no-majs think are special about these creatures. Mercy Lewis they are unobservant people) the antler-bunny can hop through solid objects by becoming temporarily incorporeal. Their tears (produced when in a great deal of pain, or, incredibly, when mourning) have been found to help strengthen healing salves and when mixed with bumblesnatch wings, can help sometimes help induce lucid dreaming.

Jackalopes are, in general, more scared of you than you are of them. While they tend to be docile creatures, their back legs are quite strong, their antlers quite sharp, and the bacteria in their bite quite nasty. They don’t generally attack; however, when they or their young are threatened they can be quite vicious. Their trust may be earned with offerings of carrots and most other root vegetables, as well as sugar cubes. Infants are quite delicate and rely on the adults of the community to look after them until they become larger and strong enough to protect themselves. They travel in tight knit groups of ten to twelve called communities. There are often at least two kits for every adult in the group. If the Elders of the group are killed off or go missing (due to poaching or being prey to a larger animal) it is nearly impossible for the kits to survive.

\---------------------------------

Jacklyn Wynonna Redthorn’s mother may have been a no-maj, but that never kept her from experiencing everything she could in the magical world. It was due to Marinette Redthorn’s avid curiosity for the world around her (a world which had been greatly expanded by her marrying of a wizard) that lead to Jacklyn and her brother’s first pet: Darius and Delia the Diricawls. Jackie and Anthony received the pair of flightless fluffy birds on their fifth birthday. This sparked Jackie’s love of creatures.

Less than a year later, Darius the Diricawl had become dangerously ill. He couldn’t poof in and out of existence as easily. He seemed constantly sluggish and tired. He began losing feathers. His peeps were pitiful. Jackie went with her father and brother to Diagon Alley to consult someone at the owl emporium. That witch had directed them to an apothecary down the street. Jacklyn was in tears as she explained to the shop keeper’s assistant what was awry with her dear companion. The man listened attentively to the young girl’s explanation, and then her pleas to do something to save her beloved pet. When she was finished explaining, her eyes still watering as she wiped her nose on her sleeve, the man smiled.

He talked in soft tones and explained to the little witch that her Diricawl would certainly be alright. Darius had a case of the flimps, which were quite common in young Diricawls. The man lead her out back to a large garden, and showed her some plants. They were some sort of flower, and it was so long ago that Jacklyn scarcely recalled what they were called. She simply knew that they would help Darius get over his awful case of the flimps when mixed with his daily feed. He helped her to harvest some for use, and also took a small cutting from the plant and explained to her (and her father) how she could plant it and eventually have a full bush. When she asked how a simple flower could heal her friend, the shopkeep’s assistant explained that it was all herbalogy, and that you could cure just about anything with some sort of flower or pod or venom extract.

Jacklyn got home, treated her Diricawl, and planted her little flower cutting. It grew big and strong and beautiful due to her love and care. A week and a half into putting the plant into Darius’ feed, he perked up. He poofed in and out and all around again. He was lively. This sparked Jackie’s love for the world of plants and herbalogy.

She would become quite proficient in it during her time at Ilvermorny. After her parents and brother were wrenched away from the living world and Jacklyn Wynonna Redthorn felt like the loneliest witch in the world, it would be her garden behind her grandparents’ large estate that would keep her sane. When she hit the age of majority (17, for wizards and witches) she left her Grandparents estate in New York and went west, taking her plants with her. She wanted to see what kind of unique plants she could find out there. While she was at it, she began to catalog magical creatures too.

That’s where she had been earlier that day, in fact. It had been barely daybreak, and a large fluffy antlered creature had sat on its hind legs, stock still before her. It wasn’t scared, no, far from it. Jacklyn had been in her tent and in the area for almost two weeks, and had slowly gained the trust of this particular community of jackalopes. So it had stayed very still and allowed her to sketch it. If she wasn’t blessed, she didn’t know what she was.

From there, though, the day had gone very…very, very….bad. Awry? Wrong? Whatever the word, the witch’s current circumstances were less than appealing to her.

\-------------------------

Newton Artemis Fido Scamander was not exactly a fan of eye contact, as some might say. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people; it was that he was mildly frightened of them. And, eye contact was hard; it always felt like the other person could see into his very soul. That idea made him stammer, and break eye contact a lot, because, what if, Merlin forbid, the other children didn’t like what they saw when they looked into him?

Newt never quite understood how his big brother did it. Theseus was only nine and could already command the attention of his peers, and, what was more, adults. He was intelligent and conversation seemed to come easy to him. But when Newt tried to be like Theseus, tried to showcase his brilliance, he got a different response than his brother did.

Theseus was “gifted” and “clever” and “just a pure joy”.

Newton was often described as “too talkative” “disruptive” and “unruly”

This didn’t bother him too much, at first. After all, what was so great about being Theseus? Their tutors gave him extra work and bigger books to study. He was always busy with one thing or another, and never seemed to have time to enjoy the little things in life. He was also, Newt dared to think, just a smidge stuck up. Newt had more spare time than Theseus. He had more time to run around in the garden, to draw, to read books he actually enjoyed. He also got to spend more time with his mother, who bred fancy hippogriffs. It wasn’t until after his first day of group tutoring, however, that he ever really got near any of the hippogriffs.

Newt had been excited to finally get to go to lessons with other children in the neighborhood. He was certainly ready to make friends.It was something his mother talked about all the time.

“Just you wait, my little Newton. You’re as bright and brilliant and wonderful as your brother. It’ll be no time before you have a flock of your very own friends to spend time with.”

Mother was not often wrong. In fact, Newt kept a page in one of his journals just to mark the occasions when his mother was wrong. This was as opposed to the entire journal he kept that was dedicated to all the times his father and his brother had been wrong. His mother’s list had only two items, before that day.

1\. “Asparagus tastes good.”

2\. “You’ll get to go to that quidditch game with your brother and your father.”

That day though, was just absolutely awful.

First, Theseus had left without him that morning, he said, because newt was spending too much time eating breakfast and straightening his “stupid bowtie”.

Second, he hadn’t wanted to bother his father, who was in his study, and his mother was not home. This meant that Newt had to walk to the neighbor’s house alone, and it was three blocks away.

Third, it had been raining. Newt showed up looking like a drowned rat; a very unhappy drowned rat. He didn’t like the feeling of being in wet clothes. The texture bothered him and made his skin crawl. Their tutor however, didn’t care. She had refused to do a drying charm on Newt or allow him to change, because, she said, he had been disruptive by showing up a half an hour late and soaking wet.

Fourth, Theseus completely ignored him all day. Granted, they were learning different things, however, there was a recess period, when the children were allowed outside to play. Newt by this point, had thankfully been dried off. His mood had been sour, but now he was happy. He was outside. And his brother was right there. Only, as Newt approached Theseus, and tried to talk to him, Theseus rolled his eyes and walked the other way with his friend group, muttering about his “annoying baby brother”.

Fifth, Newt found a dictionary and looked up the word annoying.

 _Annoying: to disturb or bother (a person) in a way that displeases, troubles, or slightly irritates. Grating on one’s nerves_.

Newt had never felt so awful in his life. He asked the tutor for permission to use the lavatory. When it was granted, he entered the bathroom, and crawled out through the window. He sprinted home, bawling his eyes out. By the time he arrived, his nose was terribly drippy, and his face was soaked in tears. He ran right past the maid and the butler and even the house-elf, straight into the back garden, tears streaming down his pale freckled cheeks.

He hadn’t realized, of course, until it was too late, that the hippogriffs were not in their enclosures that day. He and his brother had been away at lessons, so of course his mother had set them loose, so they’d have some more room to roam. He ran head first into one of their strong legs. He was knocked back, and onto his backside. When he looked up at the large beast, he nearly wet himself. It was terrifying. It let out an angry squawk.

 _"Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no its going to eat me"_ was all the small boy could think.

He let out a whimper, and tried to take a deep breath. What had his mother said about hippogriffs? Something about…about bowing, and eye contact. Oh Merlin. He was awful at eye contact. He scooted backwards away from the giant creature and stood up slowly, looking up into its large eyes. He gulped, but did his best to keep eye contact. He bowed. He waited. Almost immediately, the thing bowed back. It leaned forward and nuzzled his hand with its oversized beak. Still staring it straight in the eyes, Newt petted its beak. Its eyes were so kind and gentle. It cooed, and then nipped at him, ever so gently. How could he have ever thought it scary or mean? It sat. Newt sat with it. Eventually, it curled its body around him, tucking a protective wing over him. Newt fell asleep like that, forgetting why he was so upset, and instead, dreaming about flying through the air on the back of a wild beast.

Newt decided from that day on that beasts were better than brothers. Maybe even better than people, in general. After being expelled from Hogwarts, it only took Newt a few hours to decide what he was going to do with his life. He set off, then, for the great expanse that the world was, with nothing but a suitcase, his notebook, and a single quill made from an old hippogriff feather. His Hufflepuff scarf was wrapped ‘round his neck, and he was ready to meet what the world had to offer him.

Some years later, this found him in the state of Wyoming, in North America. He had heard tell of Jackalopes. He’d always thought they were a myth. One muggles had made up, but a very reliable source had told him that no, they were real, and they were in danger.

“Hunted for sport and money by muggles,” His informant had told him. “and on top of that, they’re food for almost anything larger than them. Sure, they can hop through rocks and walls, but that’ll only protect a thing for so long…”

So Newt had set out to find them, and save them from going extinct, if he could. He’d had word from locals where he might find such creatures, and he was fairly certain that he’d been tracking a family for a few days. He had been moving softly through the grass when he’d heard it; a pained cry of an animal in distress. Quickly, he found the source of the sound.

“That was easier than I thought it’d be…” he murmured to himself, moving forward to release the Jackalope from the muggle animal trap it was caught in. It passed out.

For now, Newt decided, it would probably be best to take it into the suitcase and see what he could do to help it. He’d find the rest of them later. The creature stirred as Newt cleaned its wound.

 _"Merlin’s pants, what have I gotten myself into now?_ " Jacklyn thought, as she opened her eyes to see a tall and scrawny, freckle-faced young man, standing over her. He couldn’t be that big, could he? Was she still….Oh Merlin, she had to be. There was no way around it. Jacklyn was still in animargus form.


	2. Common Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt wants to help. Jacklyn doesn't like being contained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than the first one. I'm going to try and update every day or so. Please keep in mind that I agonize over every sentence and it takes me more than an hour to write this amount. Thanks to Seaweedredandbrown for the advice on tags! Does this seem any better? 
> 
> Still no beta, so these mistakes are all my own. <3

\---Newt POV---  
Newt was almost positive that the creature was behaving oddly. While he hadn’t exactly come across a jackalope before, he was at least certain of one thing: jackalopes would not attempt to escape an enclosure via climbing. No, they definitely were supposed to be able to become incorporeal and move through solid objects that were in their way. Had this been only a rumor. No, he doubted that quite a bit. Had this one been injured so badly by the muggle trap that it could no longer do so?  
"What do you think, Pickett?" Newt turned his questioning eyes on the botruckle.

  
Pickett seemed to frown and shrug his shoulders. Newt sighed and watched the jackalope, which, for its own safety, he had placed in a small enclosure with a high fence. Not because he'd thought it couldn't get out, but because he thought it would keep the other inhabitants of his case out. At this very moment, the poor creature seemed to be attempting to scale the three-foot high fence. With its’ injured back leg it was not doing a very outstanding job.

  
"Pickett I think the poor creature is just doing more damage to itself...should I let it out?"

  
Pickett did have a response for this question. He shook his spindly little head vehemently.

  
"Yes, you're right....it would only hurt itself more." Newt murmured.

  
He moved to his work bench and picked up a small handful of food that he had been preparing for his newest guest. "You like carrots, don't you? And sugar beets?" Newt set the food down on the grassy ground beside the jackalope. It stopped it attempts at climbing for a moment and stared at him.

 

\---Jacklyn POV---

  
What even was this man doing? Did he just go around saving magical creatures all willy-nilly? Was he some sort of poacher? She had seen signs of poaching while camped in the area, but it could have been regular old no-majs hunting. This man was definitely a wizard though; he was talking to a botruckle for Margret Jones' sake! The bowtruckle did seem to respond to the wizard, so perhaps this man was safe? Or they were in cahoots together. If she'd been in her human form she would have pinched the bridge of her nose; instead, her little bunny nose twitched.

  
_“Really? In cahoots? Have I really become this damned paranoid?”_   She thought to herself. Jacklyn sighed internally, and then took her front paws off of the gate. She sniffed at the carrots and sugar beets, glanced at the man suspiciously, then began to nibble.

  
He clapped his hands together and beamed, "Excellent!"

  
_“Well damn. I’ve either been poisoned or this guys the genuine article.”_ Jacklyn had not met many naturalists on her travels. In fact, she hadn’t met any. Not a single one. Just as she had begun to think she might like the freckle faced, flop-mop haired gentleman, he petted her. Without even thinking about it, she bit him.

  
He leapt back in pain. “Ow! What was that for?” he asked, as if she could respond in English. He had a look on his face as if he were a struck kneazle. It almost made Jacklyn feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

  
\---Newt POV---

  
Newt took a moment to go back to his work table and look at his hand. It was only a very small break in the skin. It was barely bleeding, but it still worried Newt. He cleaned the wound and dried it while he took a moment to think.

  
“Right.” He said finally, turning back to the enclosure and its occupant. “I don’t know what I did to displease you, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t bite me again.” He was using his stern ‘mummy’ voice and looking the creature in the eye. Oddly enough, it broke eye contact. The jackalope almost looked as though it was ashamed. Maybe it was. Newt didn’t know; he hadn’t studied these creatures for very long.

  
He tried to reason with it: “I only want to help you. Your foot was caught in a metal muggle trap, for Merlin’s sake! Did you expect me to just leave you there?” he was pacing back and forth in front of the enclosure. The jackalope followed his pacing with its eyes. Newt let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m afraid I have other creatures to look after at the moment. We can discuss this more tomorrow.” He began to walk away from the jackalope, but paused and turned around. Looking it squarely in the eyes he said “Stay. Put. I don’t want you further hurting yourself.”

  
With those final words, Newt walked away to do tasks of importance, such as checking on the occamies and feeding the moon-calves.

  
It came as quite a shock the next morning, when Newt went to check on the jackalope, that he found a naked, sleeping woman in the jackalope's place instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hangers are popular right? Everybody likes a good cliff hanger! 
> 
> Comment with songs that remind you of Newt. I want to get some practice in, writing him. But I don't want to use this fic as practice, so I'm going to be posting a drabble series within the next couple of days.


	3. Species Survival Status: Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacklyn is concerned about the native jackalope population. Newt hears her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Newt being a nervous goof makes me grin. I'm not 100% on my characterization though, and thats why it took so long to write. I definitely enjoyed writing the first bit from Pickett's point of view, though.

Pickett POV:

Newt stepped back for a moment and walked back into his shack.

“No.” he said, pouring himself a glass of water. Pickett was sitting on his work bench, peering up at him.

“Absolutely not.” Said Newt.

Pickett tilted his head and looked at him oddly. Newt pointed to the door with one hand, and toyed with his bottom lip with his index finger on the other. “There’s...” he ran his fingers into his hair and along his scalp. He found the roots of his hair and tugged at them. He paced.

“It is not bloody possible.” Newt said. “I’m hallucinating. That is…simply all there is to it.” The poor wizard gestured around wildly.

Pickett stared.

“There…there appears to be. A human woman. In my suitcase. In the jackalope enclosure.” He said, nodding his head possibly too much at Pickett.

Pickett made a sound of understanding.

  
“Yes, see, that’s…that’s why I must be hallucinating.” Newt told him. Pickett looked sympathetic. Newt continued. “Because. Because there is absolutely no way- it’s out of the question, Pickett, don’t you see?”

What Pickett saw was that his friend was having a very hard morning. Newt took a gulp of water. And another.

When he’d finished the entire glass, he looked at Pickett again. “Under no circumstances- is there a naked…human…woman...in this suitcase. It’s out of the question. It’s… ** _impossible.”_** He had run out of ways to say that this wasn’t happening, so he did the only thing he could do. He walked back outside to check on the jackalope. Pickett watched him go, a curious expression on his face.

 

Newt POV:

Apparently, though, it was possible. Because after all, there she was. That was a she, right? Had to be? Newt couldn’t be certain unless- and there was absolutely no way in the world that he was going to do _that_. Newt licked his bottom lip, turning away from the enclosure. He began to chew on his lower lip. One hand was on his hip, and the other had gone to his hair again, twisting agile fingers into it and scratching and tugging at his scalp.

He glanced back at the person. No gender for now, because he couldn’t see, and the only way to know was- and he didn’t want to do that. No. No he did not. At least it. Yes….it, for the time being. At least it looked as though it was breathing. He looked away again and marched into his shack. He was going to have to do something about this! He was confused, and perhaps a tad angry, but mostly just very anxious. And he was going to have to do something about this. Determined, he began rooting around, until he found what he was looking for.

A blanket. He’d been looking for a spare blanket. Because there was no way on this entire planet that Newton Artemis Fido Scamander (born and raised a gentleman, if nothing else!) was going to wake that person up. But he couldn’t very well go about his day with a naked person just lying there, could he? So, after much foot tapping, and hair tugging, and groaning and maybe a little bit of whining, Newt went back outside, and draped the blanket over the sleeping humanoid form.

Humanoid, right. Because maybe it was just a very **very** odd creature that could turn human-looking. Were-jack-a-bunny? No, now, that was just absolutely absurd.

Newt began his morning routine shortly thereafter. He tried to keep the unknown being out of his head. The more he tried to focus on his beasts, however, the more his thoughts seemed to stray back to it.

He looked in on the niffler, to make sure it was still in its den; if a person could get in, a nifflers certainly could get out, couldn’t it?

He visited with the Diricawls, which were running around, popping in and out of existence. This was similar to the claimed abilities of a jackalope, only while jackalopes were momentarily incorporeal, they were still visible. Diricawls were one place one moment, gone, then in another spot the next, much like an aparating wizard.

Newt stopped at the occamy nest. Maybe they were what drew the person here; maybe it wanted to steal silver eggshells. Perhaps it even wanted to abduct one of his wonderful creature friends.

The bowtruckles were all still in their tree, protecting it as always. That was their life, he supposed; protecting their tree, the only home they’d ever really known. It was their entire life. And locating, protecting, and documenting creatures was his whole life. What self-defined purpose might a jackalope have? Could they survive outside of this climate or habitat? What about that naked person in his jackalope enclosure? Where did it hail from? What was its purpose?

Newt froze in his inspection of the bowtruckles’ tree. An expression of pure terror and dismay crossed his face; where was the jackalope, if there was a person sleeping in its enclosure? This was a question to ask the person, he supposed.

That was, of course, if they ever woke up. He had glanced in on it from time to time all day.

9am? Still sleeping.

10am? Still sleeping.

11am? Still sleeping.

It was nearly time for lunch, he had already done a decent amount of writing, fed everyone, and would you believe it? The person was still sleeping.

“Are you in a coma?” he finally asked out loud, his tone agitated and concerned, all at once as he passed back and forth in front of it.

He heard a groan. He looked over at the spot it had come from. Suddenly, they were sitting up. The blanket he’d draped over them slipped off their….her shoulder. Yes. That was definitely a woman. He turned around, averting his eyes and putting his hands on either side of his temples, like blinders on a race horse. He stared down at the ground and made a choking sound. He attempted to clear his throat.

“Ah- Ahem- I…” he coughed while blinking a lot (still staring at the ground). “Miss..er….miss-“

“Redthorn.” A sleepy voice replied.

Newt couldn’t stop himself; he whirled around in an instant. “Redthorn- I oh, Merlin, forgive me-” he put his hand over his eyes.

“Yeah Mac. Red, you know, like your face right now? And thorn, like the pokey things you find on rose-bushes.”

Newt’s mouth fell open. He didn’t know what to ask first. All of the questions that popped into his brain were probably at least slightly offensive.

“Are you English?” the voice of the naked woman Newt was refusing to look at asked.

“I am- and may I ask….are you?” Newt’s hands still covered his eyes completely.

“Depends on who you ask.” Ms. Redthorn said matter-o-factly.

“I’m asking you!” he removed his hands from his face to wave them around in extreme exasperation. He clenched his fists. He closed his eyes again, wishing, in that moment, to just be struck down by now.

“You, my dear beanpole of a man, are just a comedy of errors.” There was a pause, “Why does it matter where I’m from?”

“It…it doesn’t, I suppose?”

There were sounds of movement. “You can open your eyes now. I’m decent.”

For some reason, Newt trusted her. When he opened his eyes and looked at the woman, he sighed with relief, noting that she had wrapped the blanket around herself like a toga.

“So.” The woman stepped forward and offered him her hand, presumably to shake. Newt grasped it. She shook his hand. “My name is Jacklyn Redthorn. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

 

Jacklyn POV:

It wasn’t a pleasure to meet him. _“Who the Alice Parker is this guy?”_ she asked herself.

“Scamander. Ah, I…er…Newt Scamander,” said the walking talking beanpole.

“Well, Mr. Scamander. What exactly is going on here, hm?” Jacklyn raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you see, Ms. Redtho- Hold on a minute! Why am I answering you!”

“I don’t know, Newt Scamander, why are you answering me?” she wasn’t trying to be cheeky. Only, it came out that way, and if it didn’t come out that way, it would probably come out a whole lot more irritated. It wasn’t really in her nature to enjoy scaring people, though, so she tried her best not to.

“You’re in my suitcase! How- how did you get in my suitcase?” the man had begun pacing around the room. Jacklyn looked around.

“I’m pretty sure we’re outside. Not in a suitcase.” She was beginning to get a little concerned about this man’s mental health.

“Well, that is where you are wrong, Ms. Redthorn. We are, in fact, inside my suitcase.”

“Alright, beanpole, I’ll bite. Why **_am_** I in your suitcase?” she didn’t believe for one minute that they were in a suitcase.

“I’m…I’m sorry, but could you please stop calling me that?”

“What, beanpole?”

“Yes, the way you’re saying it sounds as like you’re trying to be insulting.”

“Am I being insulting?” Jacklyn asked. “Do you feel insulted?”

“A bit, yes, actually.” Newt nodded then shook his head, “Sorry.”

The witch’s eyebrows knitted together, “Why are you the one apologizing, Mr. Scamander? I’m the one who was hurting your feelings, not the other way around.”

“I did not say you were hurting-” Jacklyn knew the beginnings of a petty unneeded argument when she saw them.

“I’m American; American-born, anyway. The English sounding bit is because I spent a lot of my early childhood across the pond. From the time I was two or three until I turned eleven. And then every summer and winter holiday until I turned fourteen. I haven’t been back in…what…ten years? I can’t seem to get rid of the bloody accent, though. Some of the linguistics stick to my tongue too. You should see the funny looks I get, ‘specially from other witches and wizards.”

While she had been talking, Newt had a moment to collect his thoughts.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any relation to Archibald Redthorn, would you?” beanpole Newt  asked.

“You mean the American wizard who married a no-maj/muggle, moved to London, and helped bring about the start of the muggle liaison office, only to be slaughtered a few months later by Gellert Grindelwald?”

“Yes, that one.” He replied, nodding.

“Nope, never heard of him.” She beamed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Scamander, I really **must** be going. Can you point the way out or shall I find it myself?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry to have kept you, it’s just this way-,” Newt stopped talking mid-sentence. Everything about this woman made him want to be polite and courteous. But he was forgetting something that he considered to be a bit more important than all of that at the moment. “Where is the jackalope?”

“What?”

“The jackalope that was in the enclosure that you were in.” Newt had decided not to bother with how she’d gotten in. For the moment, he really just wanted to know where his injured friend was.

“Oh you mean me.”

“No, I mean the jackalope.”

“Yes, that’s me.” When Newt continued to stare at her in utter confusion, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “What, did Hogwarts just not **have** Transfiguration classes?”

“Of course we did.”

“Then you should know about animagi.”

“Oh." Newt said. He didn't say anything after that for a few moments. Then, "Isn't that a particularly hard bit of magic? And I wasn’t aware that a witch or wizard could use magical creatures for their animagi form.”  

"It is a particularly hard bit of magic, yes, but I was very, very good at Transfiguration. I excelled. I was top of my class, actually."

"So...you just. You just turn into a jackalope and go hopping around Wyoming? That's what you do, with your top-of-the-class in transfiguration...ness?"

Jacklyn frowned and crossed her arms. "Not first and foremost, no. I was also a dab-hand at herbalogy. I'm out here on a bit of a research trip; checking up on rare plants. Seeing if there’s anything new out here.  America is still a fairly new country, Mr. Scamander, and there has not been much done to catalog what there is out here…..I digress.” Jacklyn paused, rubbing her temples.

“I've stopped for the time being to do a bit of looking in on the local jackalope population, as I've heard they're vulnerable. The no-majs hunt them for sport and to decorate their walls and- and it looks a tad bit as though, it's possible, I mean, that maybe wizard poachers may also be helping to increase the rate of endangerment. If things keep going at the rate they are, jackalopes will move from "vulnerable" to just plain "endangered" in less than five years. And after that, if no one steps in to help ‘em, they'll be extinct in another ten…twenty max.”

“That’s terrible!” Newt looked absolutely aghast.

Jacklyn nodded, “I’m glad you understand. Plenty of the magical community doesn’t think it’s a big deal. In fact, some, dare I say, even, most, couldn’t care less about most magical creatures. They would happily see ‘em die out, and make our world less conspicuous to non-magic-users. Listen, I’m not saying we need to allow mixed breeding or experimentation; alls I’m saying is that it isn’t right to let things be killed off or die out that don’t need to. Most of these people who sit at the top of the pile don’t even stop to consider what benefits magical creatures bring us. I mean, for Margret Jones’ sake; if you don’t believe me, look at our ban on the owning and breeding of magical creatures. How closed-minded can a nation be? Then again, same country with backwards laws on relationships with muggles...suppose I shouldn’t be all that surprised-” she stopped talking, realizing her voice had risen louder and louder, and that it was becoming a bit more high pitched as well. She’d just ranted at some random, strange, unknown man. _“Way to come off as a loony.”_ She thought to herself.

Jacklyn shrugged and sighed, looking down at the ground and kicking a small rock.

Newt POV:

He’d been watching the witch pace back and forth as she spoke, making wild hand gestures and her voice becoming louder and louder, until she'd suddenly cut herself off. She was quite passionate about the subject, it seemed to him. The way she'd cut herself off mid-sentence made him sad, though. It put him back to the first time someone had called him annoying to his face. He'd been eight and had been talking excitedly about puffskeins, when the boy he was talking to interrupted, rolling his eyes, and informed him that he was very dull and very annoying and would he please just stop talking about weird animals already? Newt knew of course that he wasn't the only annoying person in the world. Annoyingness was subjective to the person using the adjective, anyway. But the idea of someone being cut off when discussing their passions and told the other person thought them boring or irritating or bothersome really bugged him. Newt was bigger on manners and kindness than a lot of people though, to be fair. 

"Sorry to bore you with the details n' such. Anyway, now ya know. I'm the jackalope, and I'm fine. Thanks, by the by, for whatever it was you did to my leg. That trap really hurt like the dickens, and I hope you destroyed it. I gotta get going, though. Lots to do, you know?"

"Mind if I come with you?" he asked, risking a glance up at her. Their eyes locked for just a moment, and oddly enough, Newt found that for once in his life, he wasn't the one breaking eye contact. "It's just that I agree with what you've said so far and I'm interested in what else you might have to say. And of course...if there is anything I could do to help save the jackalopes, I, uh. Well. They're why I'm in the area, anyway."

She blinked. "You're uh...you're kidding right?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I help magical creatures frequently, actually. It's sort of what I'm doing with my life. Have since I was a child, really. If you'd rather not have the company, though, I would of course understand." Newt felt a bit foolish for putting himself out there, now. He cleared his throat. "I find what you have to say, quite interesting." he added a charming smile, not making eye contact again.

Newt watched as Jacklyn bit her lip. She was obviously giving this quite a bit of thought.

"Yeah, alright. I suppose you can tag along for a bit. Since helping creatures is what you do, anyhow."

Newt beamed.

"How do you get out of here, anyway, Mr. Scamander?"

"Oh, theres a staircase. And, please, Call me Newt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. I don't have class again until Monday, so there should be another chapter up by the end of the weekend.


	4. Habitat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt learns a bit more about Jacklyn. When they arrive back at her tent, her worst fears have come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spent all day on this. A friend of mine sort of edited it, but neither of us would really call it "beta-d" Mistakes are mostly mine. <3 CASEY LIKES TO CHANGE WORD ORDER. CHILL OUT CASEY.

Newt POV: 

Jacklyn had been completely shocked to find that they really had been in a suitcase. “Figures.” She muttered.

“So, er. Which way to your…camp?” Newt asked. “You’re camping, yes? I’m sorry, it didn’t come up before now, and I hadn’t thought about it. Are you staying in town or-”

“A tent. I have a really spectacular tent. It’s like your suitcase, bigger on the inside. Not as small on the outside, though, of course.”

They began walking through the fields. “Er. How do you know which direction to go?” Newt asked.

“Homing spell,” was all she replied with. 

“Couldn't we just...I don't know, apparate there?” Newt suggested.

He did not understand why she was glaring at him so ferociously, but he just nodded, “Apparating is out of the question, got it.” 

“I don’t like apparating. I prefer the walk. Besides, we’re that far off.” 

“Okay.” Newt said. They walked in silence for a few minutes, before Newt asked, “So, you said you spent a lot of time in England when you were younger, up until you were 14? What changed?” 

Jacklyn was startled by the change of topic, “You know earlier when you were asking about Archibald Redthorn and I told you I’d never heard of him? I lied.” 

“Oh?” Newt asked, knowing full well. 

“Yes.” She turned to look at him as they continued to pick their way across the grass, “He was my father. I moved to the States after Grindelwald killed him and my mother and brother.”

“I didn’t know Redthorn had a son.” Newt said softly. He’d heard about the attack. He’d mourned the loss of a great man. He had never known about a son, though.

“Yeah. Anthony was my twin. He was like mum, though. No magic in ‘em. At least not the kind that would get ya into Hogwarts or Ilvermorny. It didn’t make him any less smart, or wonderful or fantasticmor kind though, do you hear me? And he LOVED, Mercy Lewis, he loved to read about magic. When we went to Diagon Alley every year to get my books, we always bought two copies. He would try to keep up with me from home and we’d send owls back and forth and- and just because he couldn’t do magic, doesn’t mean he wasn’t great, okay! And if he hadn’t been slaughtered at fourteen. If Grindelwald hadn’t killed him, he could have been- he could have been so much. There was talk that maybe he could even work for the Ministry, maybe, in their muggle liaison department. So don’t you- don’t you dare-”

It was Newt’s turn to interrupt, and he felt he really should, because Jacklyn was obviously very upset, she was pointing her wand directly in his face, actually. She was an angry, heart-broken witch, and that could be quite dangerous. He had learned that previously, in fourth year; under different circumstances. 

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. Redthorn. For the record, though, saying I did not know there had been a second Redthorn child is not the same as insulting your brother for not being a wizard. And I- I’ve read the articles your mother used to write. And I’ve got a friend, back in New York, who-- well, my point is. I know that non-magic-users are capable of great things, and I- I would never say anything negative about one I didn’t know.” 

Jacklyn looked away, sniffling. She pocketed her wand. “Sorry.” she muttered, “I suppose I’m just used to my grandparents and their friends making snide comments, or ignoring that Anthony ever existed at all. It- I’m very defensive. It’s why I left New York and started traveling and working by myself.” 

Newt nodded sympathetically. “If we’re going to be able to work together to save the jackalopes, it would be best if we didn’t fight, Ms. Redthorn.” He told her. Social cues were hard. He put a hand on her shoulder, hoping to comfort her. That was what he should do in this situation, right? Blast if he knew.

“Listen here, Mr. Scamander,” Jacklyn shrugged his hand off her shoulder, “If you expect me to call you Newt, then you had better stop calling me Ms. Redthorn.”

Newt nodded. “You’re right, of course, M- Jacklyn.”

Jacklyn smiled...sort of. Was that a smile? Newt couldn’t really tell. She held out her hand to him. “Call me Jackie, only people at snobby family parties call me Jacklyn.” 

“Jackie, then.” Newt nodded, shaking her hand. “So, how much longer to your tent?” he asked.    
  
“Look up.” she suggested. He did. The tent was very low to the ground; it looked weather-worn and shabby. Newt suspected that first glances were not even close to everything, though. Jackie was not as she had first appeared, and he doubted the tent was either. When he looked up from those thoughts, though, Jackie was halfway across the field opening a tent flap.

“Come on, if you’re coming, Newt!” He nodded and began walking quickly to meet her.

She held the tent flap aside for him. “Go on, nothing in there is going to bite you- okay thats a lie, actually, if you’re not careful there IS a venomous tentacula in there, but it’s not right inside. So, you should be fine if you pay attention. Go on, get in already.” Newt quickly obeyed, before she could say something else that might change his mind. 

Upon entering, Newt was quite concerned. “Er...how do you work in here? I presume you work, it’s just...do you organize at all? It looks like it’s been ransacked-”

  
Before Newt could say another word, Jackie was through the tent flap and pushing her way past him. 

“Deliverance Dane!” she screeched, eyes going wide. She walked into an adjoining room and screamed at the top of her lungs. 

By the time Newt got into the room, she was on her knees, biting her fist. He got down on his knees in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders, “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” 

“Look around you! Someone’s- Merlin’s saggy left arsecheek- look around you, Scamander!! My- it’s been raided, attacked!” She was pushing off of him, trying to gain her composure, get back on her feet.

Newt took a look around the room they were in. It was something like a cross between a library and a greenhouse. Books were scattered and thrown everywhere. All the drawers in a desk had been pulled out and riffled through. And the plants.  _ Oh, the plants. _ So many of them had been ripped right out of the ground and tossed around the room. He looked back to Jackie, who was shaking from head to toe. 

Then there was a soft cooing sound, coming from under the desk. Newt bent down on his hands and knees and looked under it. There was a smallish looking owl, hooting and hopping up and down. It’s wing looked quite bent out of shape. Newt reached under the desk and gently pulled the owl out. 

It peeped pitifully. Jackie’s eyes fell on Newt, with the bird in his hands. The expression on her face left Newt feeling, perhaps, just a tad frightened. She looked fierce, like she could snap and kill a man; but then, out of nowhere, she was crying. She rushed forward and stroked the beak of the small bird.

“Pav. Oh, Pav. Pav, no...no… Oh look at your wing, my poor boy. Who’s done this to you? I’ll destroy them, oh Merlin, my poor poor little Pav-”

“So, this  **is** your owl then. For a moment I thought maybe it had caused all this damage.” Newt said.

She looked up at him suddenly, “Fix him.” 

“What- oh. Oh, of course. Yes, it...it just looks like a broken wing. I’m sure I can manage to fix that easily… It might take a few days to heal -- it’ll definitely take a few days to heal-” He was explaining gently, then smiled, softly.

  
“Why are you smiling?” She growled, “There is absolutely nothing to smile about right now. This --” she waved around the tent’s massive space, “Just proves my initial theory; there are definitely wizard poachers in Wyoming, and they’re trying to intimidate me. Oh, but let me tell you, Newt Scamander, Jacklyn Winowna Redthorn is  **not** easily intimidated! And I- this --” she gestured at the owl she’d called Pav, “This is the last straw. Whoever did this is going to pay.” 

Newt gulped and nodded. “I just...you reminded me of someone I know.” he murmured. He was thinking of his younger self. Not that he wasn’t still like that. He was still feisty, and still very protective of his creatures. 

He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of “Whoever did this is going to pay”, but -- oh, she was still talking. 

“My brother bought Pavel for me when I was away at school. Because- I had more letters to send than just- just family stuff. And it was the family owl. So he. He’d sent a letter with Pavel and said, “Oh and keep the owl, he’s yours, I know you have important things to write to people about.” She shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory. “Pavel is the last thing I have from my family. The house burned down, you know? Did you read about that in all those articles? The whole house. And someone thinks they can just come in here and- and tear apart all my hard work,  _ and _ attack my owl. No, no, sirree Jack, that’s not how this is going to go down.”

She was shaking her head vehemently. Newt nodded, acknowledging her words. “Listen.” He said gently, “Why don’t you clean up… See what plants you can save. Pavel will be quite safe with me, I promise. He’ll be as right as rain in a jiffy. Look at me, Jackie.  _ Jackie _ .” Jackie wasn’t looking at him. She was looking off into space, and Newt recognized an anxiety attack when he saw one. 

“Jacklyn.” He said this louder. She jolted, coming out of her thoughts, and stared at him.

“What? What? Did you- did you say something?” 

“I did. Clean up. I’ll take care of Pavel, and we’ll sort this out. I promise, we’ll sort this out.”

She was biting her lip, obviously not quite convinced. 

“I promise, Jackie. But, if your work is as important to you as you say it is, we have to start by fixing this mess. After that, I think… I think I know some people who can help us.”

“Yeah?” She asked quietly. Newt nodded. She nodded back. “Alright. Alright. Thank you, Newt. Thank you.” She was hugging him tightly all of a sudden, tears still making tracks down her face. Newt didn’t quite know what to do with this unprovoked, physical contact. He patted her back with his free hand. 

“Of course. Anytime.” He murmured. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha yeah so I think I worked a way out for Tina to get out there, possibly. We'll see.


	5. Defenseless.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacklyn goes to search on her own. Newt calls in some reinforcements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit rushed, so I didn't look it over for grammar or spelling at all. Sorry I haven't posted any chapters in a while. My drabbles are getting a ton of attention and I've been trying to post their every day.

Jacklyn POV:

 

She paced. She paced like a caged animal. An angry caged animal. It had been six hours since they had found the mess in her home, and still, they had done nothing.

 

Well, not so. Newt, bless him, had sent a letter. That was all, though, and damn, if it didn’t just rip Jacklyn to pieces.

 

“What good is a letter going to do!” she finally snapped to the quiet room. Newt was back down in his suitcase, treating Pavel’s wing and probably feeding other creatures.

 

There was no answer to this exclamation, and Jacklyn decided enough time was enough time. She took a deep breath, and then, turning on the spot, she disapperated.   


Jacklyn crept quietly along the area where she had been caught in the trap earlier in the day. She couldn’t just go right to the tunnels, what if she was followed? She’d lead them straight to the jackalope nest. She heard the sound of footsteps approaching and quickly turned into her animagus form. She knelt close to the ground, eyes flickering in all directions.   


“See what I mean, Torvald? The traps been sprung but no damned antler rabbit.” A voice was saying.

 

“Yeah Virgil I see whatcha mean. Coulda swore these traps were set up so these damned teleporting rabbits couldn’t get out.” A much gruffer voice said.

 

“They don’t teleport, Torv. They become incorporeal and-”

 

“Yeesh, Virgil, I don’t give a damn how they do it. I know, okay, I know? Why ya gotta be a know-it-all, hey? Is it because you don’t know nothin bout nothin ‘cept these damned beasts?”

 

“No need to be a jerk, Torv,” The softer younger voice said. He sounded hurt.

 

Jacklyn began backing up. She wondered if she could get back out of animagus form and get to her wand before…Or should she just follow them to wherever their headquarters were?

 

“For the love of- I swear to John Proctor- if you start  bawlin on me, Virgil, I’m gonna-”

 

“Torvel, shut it!” Virgil said suddenly.

 

“What did you say-”

 

“I said hush. I hear somethin’. Listen.”

 

Jacklyn stopped moving, eyes going wide. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

 

“You’re right. I hear that too…”

 

“Lumos.” Virgil said softly, casting light on everything within the vicinity. Including Jacklyn.

 

“Ah – HAH! We got one!” Torvald was grinning. In this light he looked absolutely horrible, Jacklyn decided. And he was going to catch her, if she didn’t act quickly. His hands looked like they were the size of trashcan lids. Since she didn’t really feel like dying today, Jacklyn turned tail and fled.

 

Or would have fled, anyway, had she not come face to face with the third member of the hunting party. A tall blonde haired woman snatched her up by the antlers.   
  
“Hello there, beauty. You’ll fetch a fine price.” The woman traced her teeth with her tongue. Jacklyn shuddered inwardly in disgust. This was why she wasn’t a people person. People were greedy and horrible. Thinking on her feet (or off of them, actually…ha…) Jacklyn bit down hard on the blonde’s hand.

 

Rather than dropping her, as she had hoped, the woman’s grip just tightened. She snarled.

 

“Maybe I’ll just have you made into a hat. What do you think of that, you filthy little creature?”

 

“Miss Vivian. Er- what….whatcha doin’ out here?” Torvald asked.

 

“Apparently what my husband can’t trust you two buffoons to do. Is this the only one you’ve found? Or have the rest simply gotten away from you like this one almost did?”

 

“That’s the first one we seen, Ms. Vivian, we swears.” Virgil told her, nodding his head feverishly. 

 

Vivian growled. She pulled a wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the sprung trap, resetting it. “We have no chance of finding them. It’s getting dark now. You two will simply have to go out again tomorrow morning. We need at least ten for our buyer.”

 

“Yes ma’am, Ms. Vivian, Ma’am.” Both of the men chorused.

 

“Right then.” Vivian turned on her heel and disapperated.

 

Jacklyn blinked dazedly. She had never apparated before in jackalope form.

 

“Wulfric, darling I’m back.” Vivian called out.

 

Jacklyn realized they were in some kind of house.

 

“Yeah doll? Whats goin on? Where ya been?”

 

If Jacklyn’s jaw could have fallen off her face, it would have. When the woman called Vivian walked them into the parlor, there sat a face Jacklyn never thought she’d see again. _Wulfric Rufford, seriously?_ He had been a sixth year when she was a first year at Ilvermorny. He had been in Horned Serpent. What was he doing here? Kidapping magical creatures? Well that just figured, didn’t it. He’d always been a greedy little f-

 

“Is that the only one you boys got? One single stinkin’ Jackalope?” he asked, staring at Virgil and Torvel with an irritated expression.

 

“They’re slippery, boss! It’s like tryin to catch a greased erumpent! They can disappear in a blink! We’re doin our best!”

 

“This one doesn’t seem to be disappearing, does it, gentleman?” Wulfric gestured at Jacklyn. Yeah, as an animagus, she couldn’t really do that. Going incorporeal was an entirely different thing. Now, if she had learned wordless magic a little better, then maybe she could but- alas, that was not her strong suit.

 

“And do you boys know why that is?” Wulfric asked. When he didn’t get an answer, he told them. “Because we’ve developed a spell to keep them from doing that! And you’re supposed to use it, but apparently, you need a refresher course!”

 

“No boss. We don’t. Promise. We’ll- We’ll get a bunch tomorrow! We swear.” Torvel told him.

 

“You’d better, for your sakes. Vivi, dear, mind putting that one in the cage?” Wulfric asked his wife.

 

“Course not, sugar.” Vivian was still holding Jacklyn by her horns; it was beginning to give her a headache.

 

The two women left Wulfric to his scolding of his employees.

 

“Betcha can’t get out of here.” Vivian threw Jacklyn into a cage in the basement of the house, sneering and walked away.

 

 _What am I going to do now?_ Jacklyn thought.

 

Newt POV:

 

Newt walked up the stairs of his case and looked around. Jacklyn wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Maybe she was in the library/plant room? He looked in. No. Not there either.

 

She wouldn’t be stupid enough to go after poachers on her own, would she? Newt didn’t know her well enough to know. He hoped not, though. He had been up against poachers before, and they tended to be ruthless. He knew she was concerned for the animals. So was he, but it simply wasn’t smart to go without reinforcements. He’d learned this the hard way. It had taken him more than once repeating the lesson for it to stick, but once it clicked, it stayed.

 

Newt ran his fingers through his hair, chewing on his lip. He left the tent and looked around. He heard a loud **_CRACK!_** and watched as Tina and Queenie Goldstein fell to the ground, along with Jacob Kowalski. They were all clinging to a rolling pin.

 

Queenie stood up with a flounce and looked around, before helping Tina up.

 

“I’ll never get used to that feelings…uhg. Think I’m gonna be sick.” Tina was saying. She didn’t take her sister’s offered hand.   
  
Jacob wasn’t even bothering with telling anyone he felt like he was going to vomit. He just did it, right there. Queenie bent down and patted his back. “It’s okay honey, let it out. Yeah, get it all out.” She murmured gently.

 

Eventually Jacob regained his composure, and his footing.

 

Newt looked a bit concerned. “Er. Jacob. Hello… Why are you here? Not that I don’t adore you, but…”

 

“He insisted on coming, Newt. I wouldn’t suggest trying to pick an argument with him about it. He’s here now, anyway.” Queenie said, giving Newt a look that dared him to try and argue with her.

 

“No worries. I’m sure you’ll be of help, Jacob.” Newt smiled. Jacob was more capable than Newt or anyone tended to give him credit for.

 

“So, wheres Jackie?” Queenie asked.

 

“Oh, uh. I’m not sure, actually.” Newt admitted.

 

“You know, Tina and I went to school with her.” Queenie added.

 

“Really? Yes I suppose that makes sense, if you all went to Ilvermorny.”

 

“Wait wait wait. Hold on.” Tina said. “This Jacklyn person you’re helping is Jacklyn Redthorn?”  
  
“Yes. Did either of you know her well?” Newt asked, curious.

 

“Not really.” Tina said, crossing her arms.

 

Queenie glanced at her sister. “She liked to keep to herself. Didn’t like Ilvermorny that much. She was supposed to be transferring to Hogwarts her fifth year actually. But then her parents died and…The Redthorn family is pretty…I dunno how to explain it Newt. They’re just.”

 

“Not fond of no-majs.” Tina said. “I don’t know if you know the history of the family, but-“  
  
“I do.” Newt said. “I knew some already, but Jackie filled me in on some…er…more personal details.”

 

“Yeah well. There you go then. So, your letter wasn’t exactly clear, Newt. What’s going on? You two needed help with something?” Tina asked.

 

“Right. Well, Jackie has been out here studying plants, and found a community of jackalopes-”

 

Jacob raised his hand.

 

“Yes Jacob?”

 

“Jackalopes? Like the bunnies with antlers? I thought those were a hoax…” Jacob asked.

 

“That’s what wizards want you to think.” Newt told him.

 

“Oh.” Jacob said, looking confused. “So what’s the big issue?”

 

“I was just getting to that…it seems we may have wizard poachers on our hands.” Newt told the group.

 

“Oh honey. That’s awful. And you didn’t think it would be a good idea to take them on by yourselves, so you called us for help? Aww, that’s so sweet of you to think of us. Of course we’ll help!” Queenie beamed.

 

“Wizard poachers?” Jacob asked.

 

“They’re like regular no-maj poachers, only they don’t go after elephant tusks. They hunt and sell stuff like jackalopes and bowtruckles. Their hides can fetch a pretty penny on the black market, and some creatures produce difficult to get potion ingredients.” Tina explained.

 

“That’s…really awful.” Jacob said.

 

“Yes.” Newt said softly. “And as much as they disregard the lives of creatures, they treat people who get in their way the same, if not worse. A creature is worth something alive, a nosey wizard? Not so much…”

 

“Sounds like you’ve got experience with that.” Jacob said.

 

“Yes…a bit.” Newt admitted.

 

“So you’re worried cause Jackie isn’t around, and you think she went after them on her own?” Queenie asked.   
  
“Precisely.”

  
“Well, we’d better go see if we can find her then.” Tina suggested.

 

“Right. Jacob, you stay here-” Newt started. “Don’t look at me like that. What if she comes back?”

 

“She’s not comin’ back Newt. You know that.” Queenie said, sighing. “And if she did, she’d be likely to beat up Jacob. A strange man in her home? Look, I mighta not known Jacklyn well. We weren’t friends, but I know she’s definitely the type to fight first and ask questions later.”

 

Newt sighed. “Right. Lets go, then. I’m afraid I have no idea where to start…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought, please! I can't get better if you don't give me constructive criticism. Come find me on tumblr, I'm Pessimisticbee.


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